Something Changes
by Emmalynn Cosette
Summary: When the Dark Lord punishes Lucius Malfoy for failing a mission, Draco gets hurt. After something changes he switches sides. No one accepts him, believing he is a spy. Will the man who once hated him, learn to love him? Vamp-Draco. AU 6th year. Drarry
1. Chapter 1  In the Dark of Night

_**A/N I don't have Beta reader, so sorry if there are mistakes! Enjoy guys! This is my first DRARRY! R/R **_

_**Something Changes **_

_Chapter 1 – In the Dark of Night_

It was in the dark of night when the Dark Lord summoned Draco Malfoy into his headquarters at Malfoy Manor. The young Malfoy had risen himself from bed, the Dark Mark burning into his arm and fear caused his heart to beat furiously.

If you had known Draco in earlier years, you wouldn't have recognized him even in the slightest. He had… changed. His normally perfectly placed blond hair had become a mess on a regular basis and dark bags had formed under his eyes. He was less well groomed and his normally amazing fashion sense had dimmed to baggy grays and blacks.

Draco dragged his feet as he slumped towards headquarters, his usually prideful stride gone. Draco's eyes flickered around the gloomy hallways that were once alive with portraits of family members and where the once happy Malfoy family would laugh together in the now musty armchairs that lined the walls. He had become nervous to walk around his own home.

The young Malfoy paused in front of the majestic cherry wood doors that let into the grand dining room. He took a deep breath, his mind racing with thoughts of why he had been summoned. He closed his tired gray eyes and his frail hands grasped the pure silver door handles. He opened the door slowly.

Draco peered nervously into the now dingy dining room and his eyes landed on the large table in the center. The black wood and sliver that lined the legs and edges had begun to rot and the room smelled oddly of death and graveyard dirt. He brought his eyes slowly up to the end of the table, where on the decaying armchair sat a man that wasn't quite a man. He skin was a horrible shade of gray and his face was mutated. This… creature had slits for a nose and glowing red-black eyes. _He was a monster._

He was dressed in his typical black robe that hung loosely on his figure, giving the impression that he had no physical body. Draco shuddered.

"My Lord?" He asked tentatively, his voice shaking, so unlike the Malfoy he used to be.

"Ah… Draco." The Dark Lord cooed with an obviously fake loving tone. "I see you got my message." He spoke slowly, pausing in random places. He smiled, grossly showing his yellow, crooked teeth.

"Yes, My Lord." Draco responded. It felt almost unnatural for him to address someone (if you could call him a someone) like this, in a way that made the Dark Lord more important than he.

"Sit, sit." He hissed. This was a demand; Draco knew it was not a suggestion. And awkwardly, he took a seat a few chairs from the Dark Lord. "Now," he drawled. "I gave your father a mission a few weeks ago."

"My Lord?" Draco muttered, confused. "My father has been in Azkaban for months…"

"Ah… my Draco, you underestimate me. I have my ways." He laughed; the sound itself seemed dark. "As I was saying, I gave your father a mission a few weeks back and… Can you guess what it was?"

"I've no idea, My Lord." Draco slurred quickly.

The Dark Lord stood abruptly, his robe flowing behind him as he quickly walked behind Draco's chair. He placed his hands on the young Malfoy's shoulders and Draco did his best to hide the look of disgust forming on his face. "It was a simple task, really. Talk to some prisoners. Get my message through, honestly, Draco, it was just that simple." The Dark Lord hissed. He moved around the dining hall, his feet practically gliding across the floor, the smell of sulfur drifting slightly behind him. "But he _failed_!"

Draco's eyes widened and fear enveloped him. "My Lord?" Draco's voice was shaky.

"Your father has never ONCE succeeded. Get the prophecy from Potter… Resurrect me… Talk to inmates… NO! FAIL!" He screeched.

Draco visibly withdrew in fear, his breathing erratic. "I… I apologize on his behalf… My Lord." The blond muttered, trying to still his shaking body.

"You see, my dear Draco…" he paused. "I need to punish him. And since your mother never helped either, she too, needs to be punished." The look in his eyes made Draco even more uncomfortable than he already was.

"Punished, My Lord?"

"Punished, Draco." He confirmed.

Draco gulped audibly.

"There is someone I'd like you to meet." The Dark Lord hissed. "Draco, this is Yansmer Victos."

A pale man with hard eyes and a scraggily beard immerged from the corner of the room and walked to the table. _Had he been there the whole time…?_ The man's – Yansmer Victos' – face was dead. His fingers were unnaturally long and his nails were sharp. The man smelled of death and the sickening smell of dried blood drifted from him. Yansmer had even paler skin than Draco (which was _very _surprising) and his expression made the young Malfoy wish he could run away.

"Do you recognize him, Draco?" The Dark Lord asked.

"No, My Lord."

"Not even from the wanted posters?"

"No, My Lord."

"Pity." He sighed. "Yansmer here, is a vampire, Draco."

Draco's breath hitched. _Vampire…?_ "Why is he here, My Lord?" He asked, fear lacing his words.

"Well, Draco, I told you that your parents need to be punished, did I not?"

"You did, My Lord. But… What do I have to do with this…?" He tried not to show his worry or fear.

"You are the punishment."


	2. Chapter 2 Something Really Changes

_**Something Changes**_

_Chapter 2 – Something Really Changed_

Everything was cold. Draco didn't know whom or where he was, why he was where he was or how he had gotten to that place. He felt as though he couldn't breathe, and he has a head-splitting headache. _Where am I…?_ His hands groped around and picked up some dirt from the floor with his fingernails. The floor? He was on the _floor_? Draco opened his eyes and above him was Victos, licking his lips, blood smeared across his face. He pulled off Draco and with waiting, disappeared into the night.

Draco whined in pain, as he brought his fingers up to his neck and felt two small holes punctured into his flesh, blood dripping out slowly. He looked down at his hands, which were covered in dirt and had become a ghastly shade of white. He was even paler than he had been before and his fingers shook. He felt no warmth.

"Draco…?" A hiss came from the table as he realized that he was still in the dining room. He didn't like this voice and he numbly turned his head in the direction of the voice.

The Dark Lord stood a good distance away, wand extended and ready, should he need to use it. "Draco…?" he hissed again. "Are you awake?" Draco managed a nod and twisted himself as his eyes met the Dark Lord's.

"What's happened?" He winced. "It hurts." A tear ran down Draco's pale face.

"You were bitten, Draco."

"Bitten? By what?" he drawled, his neck and chest burning and yet freezing at the same time.

"Think, Draco."

"Yansmer…" He concluded a moment later.

"Mhmm… Very good." The Dark Lord cooed.

Draco twitched on the stone floor and clamped his eyes shut in an attempt to ease the pain, but nothing worked. His stomach rumbled moments later.

"Hungry. Draco?"

"Yes…" He managed to mutter, his agony increasing triple-fold.

The Dark Lord grinned devilishly. "McNair!" he called.

McNair, an old and thin man, appeared quickly at the door, his eyes immediately falling on Draco's figure sprawled out on the floor groaning. "Y-yes, My Lord?" He asked nervously, his eyes never leaving Draco's body.

"Bring me the blood."

"Yes, M'Lord." And McNair was gone as fast as he had come, _running_ out of the room at full speed.

Draco turned his head to face the Dark Lord. "Blood?" he asked weakly.

"Yes, Draco. You were bitten by a vampire; of course you would drink blood."

"I'm a vampire?"

"Seriously, Draco, how slow are you?"

Draco said no more, worry in his mind and hate bubbling inside him. Who was he to do this to him? Well, he was the Dark Lord but that was beside the point. McNair arrived with what appeared to be a bucket of red viscous blood. Draco didn't even register when the Dark Lord commanded McNair to give the bowl to Draco. The old man nervously knelt down beside the young Malfoy's body and though he was shaking, placed the bowl to Draco's lips.

"Drink." The Dark Lords commanded from the table, his wand still extended toward the new vampire. And Draco did. Morally, he knew he shouldn't have liked it, but he couldn't help it. He drank until he felt drowsy and before he knew he had fallen asleep, blood dripping from his teeth, which had become longer and a whole lot shaper. _He was a vampire now…_ he thought just before he lost conciseness. _What was he to do?_

Draco awoke in a dark room. He was sprawled out, lying up against a grey wall. He opened his eyes groggily and they darted around what looked like a cellar. He concluded that was still in Malfoy Manor, but in a room he had never seen before, by the craving of a snake in the wall. Was this the basement? Worse, the dungeons? _Yes_, he thought, _the dungeons_.

"Mr. Malfoy?" a squeaky voice spoke, stuttering and stammering.

"Mmmh?" Draco felt dead… _wait, I am dead…_ he thought. He tried to remember back to third and fourth year, where they had learned about vampires in Defense Against The Dark Arts. Draco wished he had paid attention, wished hew hadn't been so naïve… Bits and pieces came back, only words… childe… sire… blood… night… but they all meant nothing.

He looked at the voice that called him and met with a ratty face. He turned his head away in disgust and sighed.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Peter 'Wormtail' Pettigrew squeaked again. The nervous rat of a man kept a good distance away from him, peaking his head out from behind the barred door.

"What?" He drowned.

"I've… come to… _feed you_…" He literally shook as he spoke.

"Feed me?" Draco lightened up slightly at the prospect of food. H hadn't even realized just how hungry he was. He felt empty, broken, but mostly, he felt _hungry_.

"Y-yes." Wormtail muttered,

Draco's silver eyes, dead yet so alive, pierced Wormtail's beady brown ones. The rat man recoiled slightly, before nervously bringing out the bowl of blood.

He did as McNair had done last night and Draco drunk until he sent him away, leaving Draco to be alone in a cellar.

Draco slumped against the wall, his eyes drooping but he refused to sleep, he felt full again, but a pain was still throbbing in his head and heart. He had been turned into a monster by the very monster that had destroyed his family. What was he to do? The Dark Lord had taken everything fro, him. His father… hid mother… his life… his _humanity…_ Draco couldn't even call himself human anymore, which was something the Malfoy had always been happy about since the Dark Lord had come into his life, but now, he could not.

The blonde one sighed and felt tears prickling at the back of his eyes. _No…_ He thought. _Malfoys don't cry… I won't…. I won't…_ but a tear fell down his face, staining his cheek with the first tears he had shed in years, cold yet burning on his pale skin. He chocked on a sob, trying to hold it in, but it spilled out of his throat and a few more wracked his body, dry and painful to left out.

He wasn't human anymore… He finally gave in and let the sadness just takeover.

XXXXX

A few hours later found Draco still slumped by the wall, his tears dry and his face. He took a deep breath nut it seemed to have no affect; he didn't seem to need the air. That only made the feeling oh so much worse.

Soon, the sadness diminished and was replaced with boiling anger. Anger about _everything_. His life had… well, his life had gone to shit. It just was not fair, he did not want this, he did not want to be a Death Eater, but his damn "Lord" just had to come back and demand he join and follow him. Draco's mind drifted away. He knew from Snape's messages that the Order of the Phoenix was very different. They were under that old coot Dumbledore, but all had a say. He listened to everyone's opinions and ideas. All willing to help were welcome. _That sounded wonderful…_ Draco mused, enviously. _That sounded great… _

He shifted on the cold floor and suddenly, he was struck with a thought. A crazy thought. So stupid and incredibly dim witted that it just might be able to succeed. He couldn't join the order… could he? No. Yes… "Yes." Draco decided after a while of mulling it over. He would give it a try.

Draco leaned back against the cold wall, a plan beginning to from in his cunning head. He waited in the dark. He was getting hungry again.

A few days passed and Draco began to regain his strength. He was feeding three to four times a day – always wondering where they go the blood from and wincing when he thought about the possibilities – and soon he was able to move around with being in agonizing pain. Every couple of hours, Wormtail would descend the stairs to the barred door and bring him more blood to drink, each time more de-humanizing than the one before. Exactly one month after Draco had bee turned his plan was in motion. He pulled himself up from his sitting position on the floor and hid by the side of the door.

"Mr. Malfoy?" Wormtail's squeaky voice called from door, when the young Malfoy was not seen on the floor (he had been pretending to be a lot weaker than he was to keep up appearances). "MR. MALFOY?" Wormtail sounded worried as he hurriedly opened the dungeon door, key jingling in his haste. As the door swung open, Draco quickly sprung from his hiding place, elbowing Wormtail in the face and sinking his claws into the rat-man's neck. When the man finally fell to the ground with a thud, Draco hurriedly ran up the cement stairs and up to the hall that met the stairs. His eyes flickered quickly around the room, a thick layer of dust covered the floor, save from Wormtail's footprints, which seemed to always be in the exact same place. He hated what his house had become, but he fought back the pain and swiftly apparated away.


	3. Chapter 3 Please

_**Author's note: HEY! Sorry its been a while since I last updated, but I'll be updating more often now. This chapter switches between Draco and Harry's POV. Unbetaed. Enjoy! R/R  
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_**Something Changes**_

_Chapter 3 – Please  
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When Harry Potter awoke that night at number 12 Grimmauld Place from his usual nightmare, he just laid in his bed. The summer had been nerve-wrecking. He had spent half the summer being a slave for the Durselys and was now spending the remainder of it at the house he least wanted to be in. Every time he looked around the 'Black House', he imagined Sirius Black standing in front of him, smiling. It hurt every time, ever since that night at the Ministry of Magic. Sirius had been killed, all because Harry couldn't tell the difference between fact and fiction, he blamed himself.

He sighed and looked to his clock. 5:26am. "Argh…" Harry moaned, annoyed. Normally he at least managed to make it until a bit later in the morning before waking up. Knowing there was no point trying to sleep again – that never worked – Harry stood up and stretched, yawning and blinking the sleep out of his eyes.

He cast his emerald green eyes around his room at the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters. His room was a mess even for him – clothes were thrown over almost every visible surface, papers and unfinished essays were scattered across the floor and covered the wood of his desk. Harry groaned, knowing Mrs. Weasley would be on his case about it, but he couldn't bring himself to care enough to actually clean it.

Bored, Harry dragged his feet to the small window facing towards the street and the park opposite headquarters. Harry stood close to the glass, his breath lightly fogging up the glass, which he wiped away with his sleeve. He stood for a moment, just looking down at the shadows that the streetlights cast on the gloomy street. Bringing his eyes to the dark playground, Harry frowned.

A tall lithe boy was seated at one of the swings, his feet dragging on the ground as he moved back and forth idly. He sat alone, nervously glancing around constantly. Under closer inspection, Harry noticed the boy's platinum blonde hair and ghostly pale skin that almost shone in the moonlight. The teen's head was bent down and his shoulders were slumped forward. Harry tried to get a good look at his face -this boy looked so familiar- but he had no success until the boy turned his head towards the buildings. A shiver came over Harry, as he realized who the boy was – Draco Malfoy. What the hell was Malfoy, of all people, doing here? Was he here to spy, to collect information? If so, why wouldn't he be sneaking in? Wait, it would be impossible for him to know of the location because of the secret keeper. How did even know to come here?

Malfoy stood from the swing set, heaved a sigh and began to walk towards the building, swaying as he walked slowly, stalling almost. Harry almost felt as though the blonde was coming straight towards him, but Malfoy just got to the middle of the sidewalk and stopped. _What was going on?_

XXXXX

Draco Malfoy stood alone in a muggle street confused as to what he should do. He had apparated here because of a memory. He remembered sitting in his dining room, watching as the Dark Lord forced Uncle Severus to drink veritaserum, to make him tell where the Order of the Phoenix was. Though Snape was unable to speak the address since he was not the secret keeper, he was able to say what the street was and the area around it.

So, when Draco Malfoy devised his plan, he decided to go to the street and do what he could to find the desired house. And now, Draco regretted that decision terribly, as he stood lost in a park, tired and weak. Apparating seemed to take a lot out of him. He hoped it wouldn't be like that for all his magic…

Draco walked forward slightly, exhaustion beckoning him to just sit back down and sleep for a while, but he refused. It would be morning soon, and even he knew enough about vampires to know that he would die in the sunlight. Not knowing what to do, Draco looked up and down the street, then sighed. _How could he have been so stupid…?_ Of course he wouldn't be able to just walk straight up to the Order's door and ask to be a part of them. He rubbed his eyes and a weird feeling came over him. He felt as if he were being watched. He swiftly moved his eyes across the houses opposite him, looking from house to house on Grimmauld Place. He looked from number eleven then to thirteen, then to fourteen, then to fifteen and then to - wait… it _skipped twelve_. Could it be…? Draco wondered. He stared in between eleven and thirteen for a minute, a bit of hope sparking inside him, but it died immediately, for on the horizon, the sun was beginning to rise. Fear began to set in. Was he going to _fully_ die? He looked around frantically, trying to find somewhere to go. _What was he to do now?_

XXXXX

As Harry watched Malfoy glance around the street he saw his eyes stop on number twelve which shocked Harry because it was impossible. Malfoy looked scared. _Really_ scared. He almost felt sad for him. Was he lost? He looked it. Harry worried his lip in between his teeth, pondering for a moment on what he should do. From Harry's window, he could see the sun rising in the east and that Malfoy getting more and more nervous, his head swirling around quickly looking for something. _What was going on?_ Harry was becoming worried for Malfoy, who at that point was almost in tears. He didn't know what came over him, but he opened his bedroom door, and hurried down the stairs as quickly as he could, trying to keep his steps as silent as possible to keep from waking the members of the Order that were staying there.

Pausing in front of the door, Harry took a deep breath, and with no idea with what he was going to do once he got out there, he unlocked and opened the plain, tall door. Stepping out into the dark dusk, he saw Draco Malfoy standing nervously by the park. He stepped onto the small grubby porch stairs, and walked towards Malfoy who had his back turned, his surprisingly dirty white shirt almost glinted in the light of what was left of the moon and the rays of the quickly rising sun.

"Malfoy?"

Said boy whipped around so fast that he could've given him whiplash, a look of shock drawn on his pointed face. "P-Potter?" He stammered. Harry knitted his brows together in slight confusion; the Malfoy he knew never sounded like that.

"What're you doing here?" Harry asked awkwardly after a terse silence.

Malfoy's mouth moved but no sound came out. "I…" Malfoy began. "Potter. I – I want to…" He trailed off.

This was definitely not the Malfoy Harry once knew. "You want to what?" He asked, his voice coming out of his mouth was much softer than he had meant.

"I… IwanttojointheOrder!" Malfoy blurted nervously.

Harry was taken aback with surprise, but then suspicion began to set in. Malfoy was known to be a liar, so why should Harry believe him now? "You want to what?" He asked quietly.

Malfoy took a deep breath and closed his eyes; he was obviously composing himself. "I would like to join the Order." He glanced around nervously and before Harry could respond, he quickly spoke again. "And um… Potter? Mind if we go inside please? The suns coming up…" His voice awkwardly trailed off.

Was Malfoy completely off his rocker? Had he lost it? Harry sure thought so. "I'm not letting you inside! I don't know what you're up to!"

Malfoy's face twisted into a look he's never seen. He looked truly nervous and scared, but his face was also twisted with desperation. "Please Potter. I need to be inside, please… I-I…" Malfoy looked ready to cry, and Harry noticed something he hadn't before. Malfoy looked paler than the Hogwarts ghosts and he looked close to death, which made Harry nervous. _What had happened to him?_

XXXXX

Draco felt his heart hammering in his chest; he had to get inside _now_, and stupid stubborn Potter just wouldn't let him in. He was scared, and desperate now, Draco had to figure out what to do. "Please, Potter." Draco begged. _Begged…?_ Damn, he must've been desperate.

The raven haired boy's face molded into a look of slight surprise before softening. "Come in then." Potter began. "Try anything, though and you won't see tomorrow."

"O-Okay." Draco muttered nervously, and followed Potter, who paused before looking Draco in the eyes.

"The headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is number 12 Grimmauld Place." He whispered into the blonde's ear.

The second he whispered the location, Draco saw a house slowly begin to appear in between number 11 and 13. The houses shook but the muggles didn't seem to notice anything. Nobody seemed to wake up, nobody ran outside to see what was going on, and it was as if no one but them could see anything.

Potter led Draco into the house just in time, as the sun had finally begun to rise above the building clad horizon. Stepping into the house, Draco heaved a happy sigh, he was safe. Well… at least as safe as he could be with _Potter._

"Alright, Malfoy, I'm getting the rest of the Order. Don't move. I may've let you in, but I still don't trust you." He said almost rudely, the softness in his voice was definitely gone.

Draco just nodded, standing awkwardly, waiting for the Order to decide his fate.


	4. Chapter 4  What Are You doing Here?

_** Something Changes **_

_Chapter 4 – What are you doing here?_

Draco stood nervously in the foyer of number 12 Grimmauld Place. He'd made to Order's headquarters, and now all he could do was wait and hope they would accept him.

Minutes passed and still Draco stood alone, peering around at the gloomy gray 'Black House'. The hideous gray rose wallpaper had begun to peel off and in places there was nothing but cracked drywall. The young Malfoy shifted his weight back and forth between his feet awkwardly as he waited.

He took an unneeded breath that seemed to be taken more out of habit than anything and felt his stomach rumble hungrily. Draco suddenly wished he'd drunk the blood Wormtail had brought him the previous night, but he dismissed the feeling and waited with baited breath as –finally- he saw Potter coming down the creaky wooden staircase with at least ten members of the Order trailing behind him tiredly. They were bickering under their breaths at Potter.

"Why would you even let him in?" The annoying Weasley asked, half awake but visibly fuming with rage.

"Harry, he could be up to something; you never know." The muggleborn Granger whispered, her annoying voice echoing down the old stairway. She was dressed in a hideous nightgown with a teddy bear print and her hair was puffy and sticking in all different directions, making her look even worse than normal.

Behind the Golden Trio came who Draco guessed were Mr. and Mrs. Weasley staggering down the stairs as well, their wands extended and Mr. Weasley had Lumos flaring a bright light from the tip of his shabby second hand wand.

"You shouldn't have brought him here, Harry." Mommy Weasley hissed. "Don't you remember what his father did to Ginny?"

_Yeah, but I'm not my father_… Thought Draco.

Potter looked like he was trying his best to hush them. Then coming down from another eerie hallway came Draco's cousin, Nymphadora Tonks.

After what felt way to long, everyone who happened to be staying at number 12 Grimmauld Place had gathered in the front hall, and all had cast their hurtful, hate-filled, and suspicious eyes on him, all except Potter, who only looked at him with confusion and uncertainty. Draco was slightly shocked – surly Potter hated him the most – but he kept himself in check and looked down, not meeting any of their eyes.

The young Malfoy drew in a shaky breath as if to calm himself before slowly looking up and the members of the Order. His shoulders began to un-tense, but he was still very much aware of the four wands being pointed at him. He wouldn't deny it; he was scared.

Finally, Annoying Weasley spoke. "What d'ya think you're doing here, Malfoy?" The ginger spat harshly and Draco drew back submissively.

"_Ron_." Potter hissed warningly, nudging him slightly with his elbow. Was Potter protecting him? _Weird…_His emerald green eyes met Draco's silver ones and they held the gaze for a moment before the young Malfoy looked away, down casting his eyes.

Draco stood silent for a minute before repeating to the Order what he had told the raven haired boy in the streets. "I want to join the Order of the Phoenix." He muttered, nervously, tentatively.

Weasley scoffed. "We know that much already – Harry told us. But what are you _really _here for?"

"I just told you." The blonde said, a bit of the old snarky Malfoy coming through.

"Why should we believe you?" Granger asked rudely.

"I – " Draco began, but was cut off by Potter.

"Look Hermione," The raven haired boy whispered, trying –but failing– to not let Draco hear. "he looks sick… And, maybe he could help us, you know, give us some info."

"Why should we care?" Weasley said breezily. "Since when do you care about _Malfoy_?" At this, Draco bowed his head in hurt.

Potter rolled his eyes and huffed. "Come on guys…"

The young Malfoy spoke again. "I… I can give you information! Anything you need! I can give it to you!" Draco paused. "Please, I've no where to go…" He pleaded weakly.

"No." Weasley said. "Go back to your damn Death Eater daddy and tell him you failed your little mission to spy on us!"

"That's not it at all!" The blonde screamed. "Please, I just barely got away."

"I think you should leave." Mr. Weasley said shortly.

"Please –"

"Get out, Malfoy." Annoying Weasley said forcefully. "Harry was stupid to even let you in!"

Said boy, who had remained quite through this whole thing, finally spoke. "Ron…"

"Harry." Granger cut in. "Ron's right. Not the way he said it, but you shouldn't have let him in."

Potter became silent and simply looked at Draco, his face twisted with confusion and exhaustion.

The young Malfoy was about to put up another argument when someone cut in.

"Wait, before you make him leave, we should consult Dumbledore."

"What's the point, Nymphadora?" Mrs. Weasley asked angrily. She'd had enough.

Draco watched as his cousin and Mommy Weasley bickered back and forth for a few minutes before his eyes fell on Potter, who had been staring at him. Their eyes met and Draco gave him a weak and nervous smile. Potter's eyebrows shot up to his hairline in shock and he barely managed a slight awkward smile in return. He then suddenly took a deep breath and stepped forward bravely.

"We're calling Dumbledore." The raven haired boy said firmly, effectively ending Tonks and Mr. Weasley's argument. "We always said whoever wanted to join could join, so why not Malfoy?"

"His father is a Death Eater, how do we know he isn't one too?" Weasley said accusingly, making Draco feel horrible as the dark mark stung and burned his arm. He felt degraded

He saw Granger nod beside the weasel quickly, and for a moment – when Potter made no response – Draco thought the Golden Boy was about to back off, but he put his foot down,

"We are calling Dumbledore!"

"Harry…" Granger began.

"No." Potter said with finality. He turned to the rest of the group. "Mrs. Weasley, please send an owl to him."

Mrs. Weasley grudgingly left the gloomy front room and entered the rusty kitchen. Once in, she fetched a piece of parchment and a quill, grabbed Hedwig and began to scribble madly on the paper. Once finished, she read it over before giving to Hedwig, who took it in his beak and flew out the dirty window.

"Done." Mrs. Weasley huffed as she joined the group once again, her hands resting on her plump hips angrily.

"Good." Was the only reply Potter gave.

A tense silence filled the once grand foyer as they waited, unsure of what to do.

"So…" The Weasley twin with an F on his shirt – Draco was pretty sure his name was Fred – chirped awkwardly. Draco wasn't completely sure where he had come from, because he was sure he didn't see him or the 'G Weasley' enter the hall. No one responded to him, they just stood silently, nervously.

Draco's eyes fell on Potter and when said boy looked at him, he smiled gratefully, pulling his lips upwards but showing no teeth. It was unfamiliar for Draco to smile, let alone at Potter, but this feeling wasn't a bad unfamiliar, but a surprisingly good one. Draco, contrary to popular belief, enjoyed smiling, but he'd never tell. Even before the Dark Lord had risen, Draco seldom smiled in public, saving the smiles for his family only.

As the awkward silence continued Draco heard yawns come from the surrounding people, until finally there was a loud crack just outside the front walls. A pause. Then, three swift knocks tapped lightly on the birch door.

"That'd be him." Mr. Weasley muttered before moving towards the door, glaring at the Malfoy as he went. Turning the door knob and opening the door just a crack, sunlight poured in.

Draco felt a sharp knife of fear slash into him, his nervousness bubbling inside him like a boiling potion. The sunlight was about to flood the whole room in just a few moments. He knew he couldn't be in the sun. What was he to do? There were no corners to dip around and no rooms for him to enter. He was worried.

Mr. Weasley fully opened the front door and Draco did his best to push up against the wall, making himself as thin as possible to escape the sunlight that painted the gloomy walls of number 12 Grimmauld Place. Less than a few moments later, an old sparkly eyed man with an almost two foot long beard stepped into the foyer.

"Morning all." Professor Dumbledore said happily. "And shut the door please, Arthur, shut the door. For Draco's sake at least."

Draco's eyebrows shot up to his platinum blond hairline. Did Dumbledore already know? But how? He'd told no one yet.

Mr. Weasley closed the door with a confused look and Draco relaxed against the wall, the sunlight draining out the room, leaving the hall dark once more.

"Thank you, Arthur." He chirped, his half moon spectacles glinting in the dimly lit foyer. "How is everyone this morning? Molly?"

"Fine." Everyone muttered, except Draco, who remained quiet, tonguing his fangs slowly, but jolting away at how sharp and needle like they were against his tongue.

"And you, Draco?"

"Fine, Professor." He said quietly, keeping his eyes downcast.

"Good. Good. I was wondering when you would finally arrive."

Draco looked up, surprised.

"Albus?" Mrs. Weasley began. "You – you were expecting him?"

"Yes and no." Dumbledore smiled as he pulled a yellow hard candy out from no where and popped it into his mouth. He smiled at the taste before continuing. "Harry, thank you for letting Mr. Malfoy in, and just in the nick of time too – the sun was just about to rise." He smiled.

"Uh—" Potter gaped at him. "You're welcome." He finally stammered.

"Professor…" Draco began, quietly. "How do – how do you –"

Dumbledore just smiled and patted the young Malfoy's shoulder. "I have eyes among the Death Eaters."

Draco thought for a moment about this piece of information. "Uncle Sev?" He guessed.

"Yes. He is your godfather, correct?"

Draco nodded.

"He cares for you very much. The moment he found out what had happened, he came straight to me, asking me to go get you. I told him that in time, you would come to us." Dumbledore said simply.

"Okay." Draco was unsure of what to say next, so he simply remained quiet.

After a moment of silence Weasley spoke up. "Will someone please tell us what's going on!"

Dumbledore nodded softly. "Mr. Malfoy will be living at number 12 Grimmauld Place until term begins, when he will go Hogwarts like the rest of the students."

"But, sir –" Granger began.

Potter nudged her. "Leave it." And to Draco's surprise, she did just that.

"Listen," Dumbledore started, and for the first time that morning he sounded dead serious. "Some things are going to have to change around here to accommodate Mr. Malfoy."

Draco just barely heard Annoying Weasley mutter something along the lines of: _Why he is so special?_ But Draco dismissed it.

"Mr. Malfoy was attacked on command by Lord Voldemort –" Almost everyone shuddered. "– by Yansmer Victos. I do believe you know who he is."

Realization seemed to flow through everyone in the hall. Did they all know what Victos was?

"Attacked as in changed?" Mrs. Weasley asked, fear and shock lacing her words.

"Yes, Molly."

Everyone withdrew, and shocked gasps filled the room. Everyone had taken a step back from Draco, everyone except Potter, who just looked on with shock.

"So… so he's a vampire?" Granger stuttered.

"Yes." Dumbledore said simply. "He has been for a month."

A deafening silence filled the hall as everyone watched him.

"And… and" Mrs. Weasley started. "You think he can just _live_ here?"

"What if eats us?" The female Weasley – Draco was pretty sure he name was Gingery or Jenny or something – whined. _Damn, she's annoying…_ Draco thought. She stood beside Potter with a pout, her ugly ginger mane following past her shoulders in knotted strands. Draco rolled his eyes – he wasn't going to _eat _her, but he could use it as a threat if she got too annoying.

"He _will _live with you and he will _not_ eat you." Dumbledore said, still happy-go-lucky in his way. "I will provide him with the things he needs.

Mrs. Weasley huffed, not seeming to be able to find a way out of this. "What about when term begins? He can't stay here!"

"I believe I said that he will also be going to Hogwarts."

"But what about the students? You can't have a _vampire_ running loose among them!"

"Mr. Malfoy will be given his own room and accommodations will be made."

"Fine!" Mrs. Weasley huffed. She grumbled something under her breath but outwardly said nothing.

"Good." Dumbledore said, smiling once more. "Harry, if you would please show young Mr. Malfoy to a room." Potter nodded and Draco smiled. At least _someone _was okay with him being here, even if that person had to be Potter. "I'm afraid I must be going, but I will return later with the necessary items. Good day to you all." And with that, he swept out of the door, opening it as little as possible so barely any light came into the room, his lilac robe flowing gracefully behind him.

"Well," Potter said. "Um… Follow me. I'll show you to your room."


End file.
